


Two Degrees of Jeff

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [24]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Depictions of depression, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Two days in the life of Andy...er....Jeff, and his skeleton friends.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

The Beanery was, by far, not the closest coffee shop to Jeff’s apartment. By his reckoning, the bus took him past two Starbucks on the way here. He didn’t mind going out of his way to meet Stretch, though; thanks to the ‘Monster Friendly’ symbol stickered on the window glass up front, they could pretty much guarantee being able to meet in peace for a coffee and a chat. 

Not that they’d had any issues past the whole ‘bus incident’ but eh, why take a chance? Plus, they had great coffee. 

On this particular morning, Jeff got there early so he could buy his own coffee before Stretch could do it for him. Passive-aggressive, maybe, but hey it worked. He wasn't quite at the same level with the baristas as Stretch was, but she gave him a smile of recognition before taking his order. 

Twenty minutes later his coffee was gone, and he was still waiting. The buses in Ebott were pretty dependable and to be honest, so was Stretch. He loved texting, Jeff couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t send one or several if he was running late, probably laced with bad jokes and puns.

He gave it ten more minutes before sending one of his own. _hey, you running **behind**? Not to get on your **ass** , I know you don’t actually have one_

At the very least, that should have gotten him an _lol_ , and more likely a bombardment of terrible jokes. But his phone remained stubbornly quiet. 

Jeff chewed his lip, considering. He could text Edge, let him know he was a little worried. The problem with Edge was he didn’t do anything by halves and would probably be on his way home or send out the hounds or something. They were meeting for coffee, not planning world domination, there was no reason to hit worst case scenario right out of the gate.

Option two was to take a ride over there himself. It was only about a fifteen-minute ride and another bus would be here in five. If Stretch didn’t get off the bus, then Jeff was getting on it, he decided. He gathered up his stuff, tossed his cup in the trash and gave the barista a wave before he went out to the stop.

A few monsters got off the bus, one of them he recognized from the wedding and they gave him a toothy grin as they walked past. No skeleton monster though, so Jeff scanned his bus pass and took a seat. With his luck, Stretch was on the next one and they’d be like ships passing in the night, but eh, he’d rather risk acting like a bad romantic comedy than just sit there waiting.

No text came, no sign that Stretch was only running late. At the gate to New New Home, the guards checked his ID diligently even though Jeff was here a few times a week, and Jeff thought he might mention that to Antwan, let him know they were doing their jobs right. It was probably boring hanging out at the guard station all day, they could use some recognition.

The shuttle dropped him off and the brief walk to the house offered no answers. Edge’s car was gone, no surprise there, and a peek in the garage told him that his motorcycle was inside, beneath a heavy dust cover. Not that he thought Stretch had taken it out for a spin or anything; from what he knew, Stretch hated driving which was why he stuck to the bus.

Jeff knocked hesitantly on the door, then a little harder, and waited. The minutes ticked by and after a moment of internal debate, Jeff gingerly turned the knob. The door swung open, unlocked, into the darkened front room. Okay, now he was getting more than a little concerned.

The living room offered no clues, and neither did the kitchen. Not so much as a coaster was out of place, only a coffee cup was drying in the dish rack. The coffee pot was on, at least, half a pot still sitting on the warmer, but there was that faint, burnt smell in the air that said it had been there for a long time.

Jeff had never been upstairs and felt like an invader going up them, every creak accusatory. 

The first room was locked and he left it alone. The second was a guest room, the blankets drawn tightly over the bed with military precision and the paint a welcoming sunny yellow. The third revealed a large bed, the blankets and pillows rucked up around a shape beneath them. 

Okay, now he knew where Stretch was, so what did he do? Jeff shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, trying to decide. Let him sleep? But maybe he was sick or hurt or something, maybe he needed help.

It felt so completely wrong to walk around the bed, leaning in to get a look at him.

The covers were rising and falling ever so slightly with his breathing and his sockets were closed. It really was fascinating the way their skulls moved; they weren’t pliable like human flesh but somehow it worked. Magic, the universal answer to all Monster questions. 

“Stretch?” Jeff whispered, reaching out to gently shake him, trying again, “Stretch?”

He stirred, his sockets blinking open. His eye lights were wide and almost fuzzy, and Stretch looked at him in confusion.

“andy?” Stretch asked, his voice rough. He cleared his throat and sat up. The blankets slipped down and left him bare to the hips and Jeff felt his face warm, looking away.

It was a note on how much his perspective had changed that he could be embarrassed to unintentionally see some naked bone. But then, Edge and Stretch didn’t look like Halloween decorations or science room displays; their bones were kinda similar to humans but not completely. Plus, they were so very obviously alive, their magic was visible in their joints, and the way their skulls were somehow malleable. They were Monsters that looked like skeletons, an important distinction.

“andy?” Stretch said again, and his gaze sharpened, taking in the room. “what...uh…” He hauled the blankets back up a little more modestly.

“Sorry, I was worried,” Jeff said meekly, a little embarrassed at coming all the way out here to creep into Stretch’s bedroom like a fucking idiot. Should have texted again or maybe knocked harder, he should’ve done _something_. “You weren’t at the coffee shop and…”

Stretch’s groan interrupted him, and he flopped backwards on the bed. “fuck, i’m sorry, i just…i was having a bad day and i went back to sleep.” He didn’t seem worried about Jeff sneaking into his room like an idiot, but then, that was Stretch all the way. His concepts of proper behavior were a hell of a lot looser than the ones Jeff had grown up with. “i completely forgot we were supposed to meet. i’m really sorry.”

“It happens,” Jeff shrugged that off. To be honest, he was only relieved that nothing was wrong. Except— “Is everything okay.”

There was a long pause as Stretch seemed to actually consider the question. “yeah. i think so…shit,” he said suddenly, “i haven’t been outside to see the chickens, don’t even remember shutting off my alarm.”

“You want some help?” Jeff asked, equal parts hesitant and curious. “I haven’t seen the chickens yet outside of Instagram.”

That got him a grin. “sure, handy andy, come on out and live up to your name. give me a minute to get dressed, I’ll meet you downstairs.” He hooked a thumb at the door and Jeff went, sitting on the sofa until Stretch tromped down the stairs, dressed from toes to throat in jeans and a heavy sweatshirt, a bright knit hat on his skull. 

The chicken coop looked sort of like a gingerbread house, except instead of Hansel and Gretel, three birds came barreling out of an entrance near the bottom, clucking eagerly as they waited by the wire mesh gate. 

“sorry, gals, it’s a little late,” Stretch sighed, gently pushing them back with his toes as he opened the door. The chickens milled around his legs, getting even louder as Stretch poured feed into a little trough. They were bigger somehow than Jeff expected but what the hell did he know about chickens? He was more familiar with them in their nugget form.

Stretch left the door open as he came back out. “give them a minute and they’ll wander out to inspect you properly. c’mon, let’s have a seat.”

Beneath a large tree was a frankly charming little patio that wouldn’t be out of place at a sidewalk cafe, with chairs and a small table. Stretch dusted fallen leaves from both and sat down. 

“you’d think the leaves would drive the Edgelord nuts,” Stretch said, stifling a yawn, “and that he’d have them bagged and tagged before they hit the ground, but he actually likes them. tries to say they’re good for the grass.”

“I like them, too,” Jeff admitted. “I didn’t see too many leaves where I grew up.”

“yeah?” Stretch chuckled. “me either. okay if i smoke?”

“It’s your yard.”

“it’s _your_ lungs.”

Jeff shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me, go ahead, just exhale the other way.”

It was chilly out, well into October as it was, but in a good sort of way, the kind you could enjoy on your face so long as the rest of you was bundled up. There was a faint hint of smoke as Stretch lit his cigarette, but the breeze carried it the other direction. They were both in warm sweatshirts in the same autumn colors as the leaves, and it was nice to sit out here and watch the chickens, take in the breezy air.

Or at least Jeff thought it was, until Stretch tapped the ash of his cigarette into an ashtray on the little table, saying quietly, “i really am sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jeff insisted because seriously? What else did he have to do anyway? Nothing that he’d enjoy more than this, for sure.

“except for how you had to drag your ass all the way out here,” Stretch said. It was his tone of voice that was really bringing home how serious he was. Stretch had, not an accent exactly, but a way of speaking that was sort of laconic, his words rounded and easy. Right now, he sounded more like Edge, all crisp syllables.

“It’s not even twenty minutes and I was coming here later to meet Antwan anyway,” Jeff countered. “I didn’t have to take an Alaskan expedition or anything.” For a minute, he thought that was it and they could move past this, maybe enjoy the morning.

“you should probably know i’m not a very good friend,” Stretch said abruptly, ruining that hope. “i have a fuckton of problems that edge already has to deal with, so i won’t blame you if you want to back out of the whole friend thing.”

“Seriously?” Jeff groaned. “Man, you overslept one time. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“No but…look, it doesn’t make you an asshole to not want to deal with me.” He exhaled long and slow. “i have depression with manic episodes, ptsd, plus a laundry list of issues i could put together for you.”

“Okay,” Jeff said slowly. “So, you’ve got a diagnosis. From your therapist?” Something about that made a flash of discomfort cross Stretch’s face and he ducked his head, looking at his untied shoes.

“yeah,” he muttered.

“Good, that’s much better than WebMD. Besides, if you look there, it’ll probably say you have cancer.” It made him laughed a little in a way that sounded more like him and Stretch shook his head as Jeff went on, “We’re friends, okay? Even if you fuck up sometimes. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to fuck something up.”

Stretch gave him a wobbly smile. “you think you’re going to fuck something up?”

“Oh, I know I am,” Jeff said matter-of-factly, “If there’s one thing I’m great at, it’s fucking up. But if we’re both fuck ups then we make the best of friends, right?”

“i’m not sure that theory pans out. might need a little more study.”

“Sounds good.”

The chickens had wandered out of the coop during their stroll through the emotional minefield and were at their feet, shuffling through the leaves. Jeff flailed a little when the largest one hopped onto his leg, riding his wild movements easily and plucking at the front of his shirt. 

“Oh,” Jeff stared at it in surprise, his hands rising and falling as he tried to decide what to do with them. “I didn’t know chickens were…friendly.”

“these ones are pretty friendly,” Stretch grinned. “they’re all hens. you can pet her, go ahead, noodle likes it.”

Hesitantly, he did, stroking the soft white feathers as the chicken clucked. “Oh,” Jeff said again, softly, “they’re nice, aren’t they.”

“They are,” Stretch said. His tone was a little odd, a little quiet, but Jeff’s attention was on the chicken in his lap. The other two came over to inspect his shoes, demanding their share of his attention and Jeff couldn’t help laughing, trying to pet all of them at once while Stretch only sat at watched him, lighting another cigarette and smiling. 

end part 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the second day, Jeff has a chance to talk with Edge, looking for answers. What he gets are more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of possible homophobia

* * *

This was probably a bad idea. 

That was okay, though, Jeff was pretty good at bad ideas. He had a few good ones as well and he supposed by the end of the day, he’d know which one this was. 

There was a bus stop right outside the Embassy. Stretch wasn’t the only Monster that didn’t drive and there was actually a dedicated bus in the morning and afternoon for Monsters to take on their workdays.

Jeff had never been to the Embassy, but his ID for New New Home worked just fine at the door. Figuring out where to go was another story; his best source of information was Stretch, and he’d want to know why Jeff was here so that was out. Next was Antwan, but again, he was trying to be...not secretive, but discreet. Asking Edge would only be giving advance warning. 

The Monster at the front desk was cheery and helpful, not seeming put off at all by his humanity. Probably used to dealing with a variety of humans and figured that if his ID had gotten him through the door, he must be okay. They sent him up to the third floor, sixth door on the right off the elevator.

There was no plaque on the door, nothing but a number, but it wasn’t locked. Jeff opened it and went inside cautiously. The secretary was friendly enough, Janice by her nameplate. She seemed a little confused and wary to see him. “Can I help you?”

“Hi!’ Jeff smiled and tried to seem like he belonged here. “I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping to speak to Edge for a minute, if he’s in?”

“May I get a name?” she asked, politely.

“Yeah, uh, tell him it’s Andy.”

She pressed a button on the intercom. “There’s a human to see you.”

Edge’s voice was tinny through the speaker, _“I don’t have any appointments today, who is it?”_

“He says his name is Andy.”

There was a long silence, and Jeff kept smiling through it, ignoring the roil of anxiety in his stomach. To be perfectly honest, he had no idea what is was that Edge did at the Embassy, other than he worked a lot of hours and with Antwan from time to time on different court cases. Both of them were right on the border of workaholics, frankly, but Jeff didn’t blame them for it. It wasn’t like they were CEOs trying to figure out the next best way to make a buck; at least some of the cases they were handling involved discrimination against Monsters. Someone’s livelihood or life was at stake. That was worthy of a little overtime. 

The silence seemed to drag and then finally, _“Send him in.”_

Janice’s smile was a little warmer at that, gesturing behind her. “Right through that door.”

“Thank you,” Jeff told her and went before he could lose his nerve. 

Behind the door was a really nice office, to Jeff’s eye, better than the professors at the university but less cluttered. The desk looked antique, the dark wood almost hidden by stacks of papers, baskets that were neatly labeled both by name and color-coded. A computer dominated the other side of the desk, along with several mounted monitors, and various other office supplies dotted the desktop. Including a pen cup with an iconic Rosie the Riveter and her ‘We Can Do It!” statement, only in this one, she was a skeleton. 

Yeah, that was a gift from Stretch. 

The walls were filled with file cabinets and bookshelves, most of them to the point of overflowing with classically leather-bound books. There was darkly upholstered sofa pushed against one of the walls. In front of the desk were two cushioned chairs and Jeff chose one of them, sitting down a little awkwardly as Edge watched him. At least it was a comfortable chair, not that he was too surprised. Edge was the kind of guy who would make sure anyone in his office was comfortable, no matter what he felt about them. 

It was a little weird to see Edge in his business suit. Jeff had seen him in a lot of outfits, from motorcycle leathers to jeans and a pullover at the pumpkin farm. To see him professional and poised wasn’t a surprise, not even a little, it was just weird. He looked good, not exactly Jeff’s preference, though it was easy to see how Stretch could find him appealing. 

For Jeff, his tastes had currently shrunk down to be deliberately Antwan-shaped, which was kind of depressing since it was becoming increasingly obvious that Antwan just wasn’t as into this as he was. 

For one, they’d been together for six months and they had yet to share an ‘I love you’. Jeff had a pop figure that Antwan had given him of Andy Dwyer from Parks and Rec for their anniversary, but not those words and more than once Jeff had been bursting to say them, to let everything he was feeling spill out of him in a flood.

He couldn’t. He didn’t want to burden Antwan with it, make him uncomfortable. So, they had fun. A couple times a week he slept over, either in Antwan’s apartment or his house in New New Home and if Jeff lay in bed some mornings while Antwan was in the shower, wishing he could stay, wishing this could somehow be _his_ , well, that was his own fault for wanting more than had been offered.

His own fault, too, that he’d hoped maybe something would happen at the wedding, maybe all that romance in the air would cling to them; it hadn’t worked out that way. They’d danced, they’d laughed, they’d had a great time and gone home to some equally great sex and lying there with the sweat still cooling, Jeff had thought, _I love you_. 

But no one had said it. 

It was okay, really. He’d had a good idea where this was going from the beginning. Antwan was extremely busy, working his ass off every day, in court, in the Embassy, he headed their legal department and someday he was going to want a boyfriend, even a husband, who he could introduce to heads of state. 

On the plus side, if ~~when~~ , he and Antwan broke up, at least he was confident that they weren’t going to pull his day pass into New New Home. He and Stretch were pretty good friends, and he didn’t want to imagine losing that, not for anything.

Jeff blinked a little, realizing that Edge was staring at him a little impatiently while Jeff sat like an idiot. “Oh, um, good morning.”

“Good morning,” Edge said, evenly, not so much as a greeting but more like he was agreeing with the sentiment. “What can I help you with?”

“I'm sorry to bug you at work,” Jeff said, slowly, “but I wanted to talk to you without Stretch and Antwan around. I figured this was the easiest way.”

That got him an arched brow bone. “About?”

“I wanted to ask a couple questions about Stretch,” he said, honestly, “but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to answer.”

That was one way to get his curiosity piqued, Jeff knew. “Ask.”

“Okay,” Jeff took a deep breath, let it out. “The first time we had dinner, Stretch told me he needed a friend. But I’m not sure why, he’s a really likable guy and he has a ton of humans who like him. I mean, his twitter is crazy with people who’d love to meet him.”

“He is very likable,” Edge agreed, “And I’m sure there are any number of Humans who would love to meet him. Most of them would probably be in it for the novelty, of course, but not all of them. He also meets people every time he goes into Ebott and many of them are decent people.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t really ask one,” Edge countered. “However, I can answer the question you were thinking. Why you, you’re wondering.”

“Yeah,” Jeff admitted. Why him? He was pretty much nobody in the scheme of things, nobody important, nobody that interesting. So why had Stretch chosen him, of all people, to call friend?

Edge leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands together in his lap. “Stretch doesn’t trust easily.”

“So why would he trust me?”

Edge shrugged. “You already saved his life. And he is usually a very good _judge_ of character.” He leaned forward. “Jeff, I should tell you, before you were allowed into New New Home, we ran a thorough investigation into your background.”

Awkwardly shrugging, Jeff told him, “I don’t have anything to hide.” Stretch had alluded to Edge doing some spy shit to check him out from day one.

“No, you don’t. You’re exactly as you seem,” Edge agreed. His eye lights were steady, probing. “But I’m guessing I know more about you than perhaps you would be comfortable with. I would like to say that I am sorry about your parents.”

Jeff froze. He swallowed hard and looked away, looking at the leather-bound books on the shelves by him, their titles in gold gilt. Wuthering Heights. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Tom Sawyer. The Collected Works of Shakespeare. He wondered distantly if Edge ever sat down on that cushiony sofa with one of those books to read it or if they were for show.

Words still came at him, slow and inexorable. “We don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to, but I wanted you to be aware that I knew.”

“I still talk to my mom sometimes,” Jeff said distantly. “My dad probably doesn’t know she calls. It's okay.”

It was only when Edge held out a box of tissue that he noticed he was crying. He took one with a mumbled thanks, mopping at his eyes. 

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Edge said, softly. “But it felt like a lie to keep it a secret.”

“Thanks,” Jeff muttered. “I think maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”

Edge nodded. “I understand. If you ever do, I’d like you to know I’m willing to listen.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said again, and he meant it. He took a shuddery breath and let it out, trying to calm his racing heart. “Oh, one other thing. What’s up with Stretch and cats?”

Edge stiffened visibly, “You have a cat?”

“My roommate does. He got her after my first trip to New New Home, so it probably didn’t show up on your spy paperwork,” Jeff said in what he hoped was a teasing tone. He added, more seriously. “I think she gave Stretch a fright.”

He relaxed a little. “And that’s it? The cat wasn’t hurt?”

That wasn’t something Jeff had even considered, not from Stretch. “Uh, no, he just didn't want to be near it.”

“Good,” Edge sighed out. He tapped a finger on his desk, the gloved digit made a muffled sound against the wood. “He still doesn’t handle being in enclosed spaces with them very well.” He held out both hands, almost imploringly. “Please understand that I wouldn’t expect him to hurt your friend’s cat. But we did have a small incident when he met the temmies here for the first time.”

Edge almost seemed worried, like Jeff might decide to cut Stretch loose over a cat that hadn’t even been touched. What the hell had these two been through? “Stretch mentioned those, what’s a temmie?"

"A particular species of Monster; unfortunately, most other monsters are allergic to them, occasionally even themselves, so they generally keep to their own. They are quite friendly, here."

"In this universe,” Jeff repeated, slowly, what Stretch had said that day.

"Yes, in this universe,” Edge agreed.

"What does that mean? Stretch promised he'd tell me.”

"Then he will.” Abruptly, Edge stood, absently brushing off the front of his suit coat. “All right, then.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, you’re busy.” Jeff wasn’t sure any of his questions had been answered and he felt like he had a few more, but that was okay. Progress of a sort had been made in his life mysteries, and maybe he wasn’t in league with Shaggy and Scooby, but he had a few more clues.

To his surprise, Edge replied, “Actually, I was going to say we may as well go have lunch. The cafeteria here is mediocre at best but the deli down the street is excellent.”

Jeff blinked, “Oh. Okay, sure.” He followed Edge to the door. “What do you DO here, anyway?”

Something like a smile twitched at the corner of Edge’s mouth, “Would you really like to know?”

“Yeah, actually.” He did. Not only was he curious, it would probably give him more insight into what Antwan did. 

“Then I’ll tell you over lunch,” Edge said. He gave one of Jeff’s shoulders a squeeze with one gloved hand. “Come on.”

This was not at all what he’d expected from coming down here, but Jeff followed him down the hallway to the elevator, trying his best to match Edge’s long strides. Maybe he’d get a few more answers yet or maybe he’d get more questions. Either way, he looked like he was going to get lunch and if there was one thing he could trust from Edge, it was that the food would be excellent.

-finis-


End file.
